A look into Brandon and Callie's porch exchange
by xbrallie
Summary: Fanfictions usually explore completely new scenarios in alternate universes, but when we're watching the 2-minute interaction between Brandon and Callie, do we really know what they're doing, what they're thinking? This brief story elaborates on this exchange.


_Disclaimer: I might actually be a really terrible fanfiction writer. :( But anyways I figured I'd elaborate a little more on the argument Brandon and Callie had in the summer season's fifth episode, after he'd picked her and Wyatt up from their failed date. I basically took interactions and dialogue that actually happened in the episode and capitalized on them. Any and all feedback would be great!_

**Patience**

The lack of lightheartedness in the atmosphere became significantly more apparent after they'd dropped Wyatt off. The 10-minute drive back to the Fosters' household seemed to perpetually drag onward, and in those 600 seconds neither one of them uttered a word to the other. Callie wanted to deliver a word of apology, but as she quickly darted her glance up from her fiddling hands to Brandon's face— stoic as ever, even as the dimmed streetlights they were driving by moved across his pale complexion— she couldn't quite figure out where to begin. She fixed her alternating gaze back on the dashboard of the car and then down to her knees; as they bumped together, she subconsciously began to chew on her thumb nail.

The car finally pulled to the end of the driveway. As the revving of the engine started to die down, Brandon ripped the keys out of the ignition and instantaneously got out of the car. He walked around the front of the car and strode past Callie, who had just closed her car door and stopped as he abruptly cut her off. Sensing that the unspoken tension wasn't going to break anytime soon, she quickly followed behind and called out after him.

"Hey, I said I was sorry—"

"And _I_ said it was _OH_-kay!" Brandon sarcastically shot back. _What else was I supposed to say, Callie?_ He rhetorically asked in his mind. _What, that it _wasn't _okay? _He continued making his way to the front door.

".. Then why are you acting so mad?" Callie didn't seem to fully understand the intentions behind his anger, nor did she comprehend the obvious sarcasm dripping from his response. She furrowed her eyebrows as she began to approach an 'Aha!' moment, that perhaps this had something to do with the third someone that had just been sitting in the car with them just minutes before.

He slowed his steps down at the doormat directly outside of the front door. She looked directly at him, awaiting his reply. Brandon, frustrated by her lack of understanding and the situation that had unraveled in the past hour, sighed a loud sigh of disbelief and stopped, turning around to look at her.

"You _really_ have to ask? .. You just had me pick you up on a date, with _Wyatt_."

Callie, still unable to catch on, became even more confused.

"Why do you hate Wyatt so much?" She managed to sputter out.

"This _isn't_ even about Wyatt.." Brandon exhaled without much thought, and then nervously laughed, dropping his arms that had been frantically waving to the sporadic rhythm of his replies. He loudly exhaled a second time, nearly chuckling under his breath. "Okay?"

He hadn't expected the conversation to take this turn, but he knew that there was no going back from here. After taking another breath, Brandon softened his tone and continued, dropping to a near whisper; the facial muscles that were just tightened in anger a second ago loosened into an intimate sort of honesty. The glare that was originally plastered on his face melted into one much more gentle. Brandon stared at Callie, his eyes tracing the contours of her face and quickly settling on Callie's eyes.

"I don't want you dating Wyatt, because.. I don't want you dating.. _anyone_." And as he articulated that last word, he moved his gaze from the ground to her face. For a brief moment, Callie almost reciprocated, finding herself drowning in the last few seconds of his confession. She could feel his exhaled air gently tickling the tip of her nose, and as she tilted her head away to refocus her attention, she noticed Brandon's eyes: A subtle green speckled in his brown pupils. Brandon nervously swallowed, and Callie watched his Adam's apple move, awkwardly returning her to reality. As if the rest of the Fosters' family was actually right behind the front door listening to their exchange, Callie maintained a hushed tone as she opened her mouth to respond.

"I can't.. I can't do this."

"Well.." Brandon trailed off, so held up by the moment that even he had lost his eloquence. "Well too bad." He scrunched his face in self-disapproval. _Really, Brandon? That's the best that you could come up with?_ — Callie intervened before the self-bashing could continue.

"No, even this _conversation_ could have me and Jude kicked out of the _house_!"

"That would never _happen_—"

"You don't _KNOW_ that!"

Callie unclenched her teeth for a moment, and the level of anger that had just escalated suddenly reverted to a near zero. Brandon had a feeling that it was more than just him not understanding the severity of the repercussions of the conversation; he remained silent. Callie re-clenched, her jaw beginning to grow sore.

"Alright, 2 years ago, Jude and I were in a really good foster home, definitely the best one before coming here.." She nodded her head, and then let out a sigh of hesitation. ".. And they had a son, and he was really nice to me so we started hanging out.."

Any feelings of frustration and hostility on Brandon's end began to melt away. He had a feeling he knew where the conversation was going. He bit his tongue and continued to listen.

" And then the parents found out.." As if at a loss for air, Callie inhaled, knowing that she had to finish telling this story until reaching its end. "And he told them it was my fault.. that I was coming onto him.." She couldn't bear to elaborate the situation any further than that, and as she choked out those last few words, she turned her glance away from Brandon, hoping he wouldn't catch the tears beginning to form in her eyes. Her pupils darted every which way in a failed attempt to absorb her tears back into her tear ducts. She laughed bitterly, knowing that she couldn't _possibly_ deprive Brandon of the best part of her story: The ending.

"And the next day.. The _next day_ they had me and Jude sent away."

Almost as if he were a part of the story she was telling, Brandon lost his previously locked gaze with Callie, feeling something between being ashamed and being disappointed. He sheepishly looked down, meeting his stare with her black boots.

".. And the parents told CPS some lame excuse, you know.. They didn't want to admit that their son was having a relationship with the _trashy foster girl_, so.." She angrily articulated the name that she'd be given; the entire time, Callie had yet to break eye contact with Brandon.

"So yeah.. _Brandon_, it can happen.. Because it already _did_."

"Well I'm not like him." Brandon's face, still scrunched up, but now in utter sadness. He took a couple quiet steps forward, now only inches away from Callie's face. He repositioned himself and returned his stare back up to her eyes.

"I would _never_ do that."

Callie knew that he was trying to help, that he was trying to prove that he was better for her, that she should give him a chance.. And she wanted to, but for once, she needed to put her desires aside. After 17 years of life, of living only for herself, she really needed to follow through for once— To do something right for Jude. Callie sighed for about the third time, racking her brain for a response in an attempt to both tell the blatant truth of the matter and convey her appreciation for his innocently valiant effort; she came out empty-handed.

"Does it matter?"

She smiled a very sad smile, the corners of her mouth coming down just as quickly as they'd come up.

"It still ends the same way."

And with that, Callie drew the conversation to a close. She shuffled into the house and quickly made her way up the stairs. _This can't happen again; that was way too close._ And as she closed the door to her and Mariana's room, Brandon remained in the same stance that Callie had left him in. She hadn't given him sufficient time to respond, let alone process everything that had just happened in their two-minute exchange. He looked over to his right, right where Callie had just gone up the stairs from. As his chest rose and fell in a visible exhale, Brandon put his hands on his hips and looked down at the welcome mat their feet were previously sharing. The front door creaked as it moved a couple centimeters back from the breeze that'd just swept past. There was definitely more to her story than the few seconds that Callie was compelled enough to share, but Brandon knew that he needed to be patient.

He needed to be patient with everything.


End file.
